After the mothership's horrible and spontaneous combustion,
I took up art, design, and miserably-attempted assimilation
into the human world.
Unable to shake certain tendencies, my work reminisces of a twisted, idyllic, non-existent universe.
My style (and possibly my being) are not unlike the mimolette itself: Strange and uneven like the surface of the moon, appearing fruity, vibrant and sweet,
but when you delve to the middle of it...
Its taste is sharp. ♥